Feral
by Disgruntled Peony
Summary: Hobbes has a run-in with Claire when she's at stage five quicksilver madness...


Title: Feral

Author: liz_Z

E-mail: liz_Z@secret-agent.com

Category: Drama, Angst

Rating: PG-13

Spoilers: References to Diseased, MFN parts 1 & 2, TTPoC, Possessed

Season/Sequel info: Takes place right after the end of the second season

Disclaimer: I don't own the show, I don't own the characters, and I don't definitely don't own Stu Segall Productions. All I do own are these crazy plotlines I come up with and a couple of autographed photos.

Author's notes: I was sitting in bed one morning trying to think of how to get Bobby and Claire together, and this little bunny made itself known. I immediately thought, 'Oh, that's evil! It's cruel! Torturing! Angsty! ...I love it!' And voila, here it is. Oh, and in case you were wondering about the title, it was either that or 'Call Me Crazy', and I do so love the word feral...

Hobbes could tell something was wrong the moment he stepped into the Keep. It was almost completely dark; the light from the hall provided the only illumination. A dead silence hung over the room, filling Hobbes with a sense of foreboding. "Fawkes?" he called out quietly, squinting in an attempt to peer through the darkness. He received no answer. "Claire?" No one replied.

Hobbes could feel panic beginning to set in now, causing his heartbeat to become rapid and his breathing to become shallow. He fumbled for the light switch, trying to convince himself that everything was all right, that Claire had just gone home early and his fears were completely unfounded...

But as his fingers found the appropriate switch and the room was bathed in fluorescent light, he could see that his suspicions had been absolutely correct. The lab had been demolished; only a few scattered test tubes and cracked beakers remained intact enough to testify that there had one been order to this chaos. Various chemicals were pooled all over the floor, along with something that looked suspiciously like blood.

Hobbes just stood for a moment, his brain stubbornly refusing to process what his eyes were seeing. Then his training began to take over and he pulled his gun from its holster, cautiously making his way into the room. His gaze fell on a large lab table that had been overturned. A lone sneaker was protruding from behind it. Hobbes hurried over, and was met by the sight of a very unconscious, possibly dead, Darien Fawkes.

"Aw crap," Bobby muttered, bending down to check Darien's pulse. He sighed in relief when he found it, and then began to check Darien over for injuries. He was no doctor, but he'd had enough experience in the field to retain some medical knowledge. It was fairly obvious that Darien had a broken arm and a stab wound on his chest, which looked to be from broken glass. Concussion and internal injuries were also a possibility.

Hobbes shook his head grimly, trying to decide whether or not it would be safe to move Darien considering the circumstances. "Damnit Fawkes, can't you just go one week without getting your ass kicked?"

It was then that he felt more than sensed a menacing presence behind him. He whirled around just in time to catch a glimpse of flailing hair, gnashing teeth, and gleaming silver eyes. Then his head impacted sharply with a corner of the overturned table and he knew no more.

**********

Hobbes was brought harshly back into consciousness by the extremely painful feeling of someone poking at the tender spot on the back of his head. He hissed in pain and tried to jerk away, but found himself unable to. He opened his eyes slowly and found himself face to face with Claire. A very frightening, very dangerous, very silver-eyed Claire.

"Shhh," she said in a mock-soothing tone, "hold still." She then proceeded to finish bandaging the bump on Hobbes' head, albeit a little rougher than Hobbes thought necessary.

Hobbes licked his lips nervously as Claire pulled back, glancing around at his surroundings. He was still in the lab, but he now had the unfortunate pleasure of being bound hand and foot in what Darien had once christened the demented dentist's chair. Not only that, but he currently had a certain Keeper straddling him at the waist.

"Umm, Claire... are you okay?" Hobbes knew that was a stupid question, as Claire was obviously anything but okay, but it was the only thing he could think of to ask under the circumstances.

Claire laughed and then looked down at Hobbes, saying in a seductive tone, "Oh, I'm much more than okay, Bobby. You would not believe how wonderful I feel."

Hobbes swallowed hard. "Probably a lot better than I do. Could you let me out of this, please?"

"Oh, but then we couldn't have fun!" Claire exclaimed, bending forward in a suggestive position.

"I'd be having a lot more fun if I wasn't trapped here right now," Hobbes insisted, swallowing hard. Claire's silver eyes were distinctly unnerving, just as Darien's had been whenever he reached stage five madness. Unfortunately, he had no sunglasses to offer Claire at the moment, and he doubted she would have put them on if he did.

"Are you so sure about that?" Claire asked, sticking out her lower lip in a mock-pout. Then the corners of her mouth turned up in a sly grin. "I think I can change your mind."

Hobbes shivered, wondering just what Claire's words meant. He was rather taken aback when she began to slowly unbutton his shirt. "Umm, Claire?" Claire just winked and kept on going. She had Bobby's shirt half-undone now, and was allowing her fingers to roam in strange patterns along his chest as she moved them from button to button.

"Claire?" Hobbes said again, his voice cracking. Claire laughed at that, running her hands across the muscular expanse of Hobbes' chest and then reaching down to undo the final buttons. She pushed his shirt aside, completely revealing his well-muscled torso, and licked her lips. "Claire, NO!" Hobbes yelped as she undid his belt in one swift move and reached for the zipper of his pants.

"Oh, come on, we both know you want it," Claire said, trailing her fingers across Hobbes' abdomen. She leaned over and whispered into his ear, "We both know you want me."

Hobbes closed his eyes, inhaling sharply as Claire began to softly touch her lips to his neck, an action that sent shivers up his spine. He knew it would be virtually impossible to reason with Claire when she was in this state, and that if he did manage persuade her to stop the sexual advances she would very likely turn violent. But he couldn't let her do this, both for her sake and for his.

"What... what happened in here?" he asked, trying his best to stay calm, to keep from being aroused.

"Oh, nothing much," Claire said, still applying kisses to Bobby's neck and shoulder. "I was..." Claire kissed Bobby on the shoulder. "...trying to figure out..." Another kiss. "...why the quicksilver flakes..." Kiss. "...from when I gave Darien the counteragent B..." Long, drawn-out kiss. "...weren't dissolving." Claire ran her tongue along Hobbes' collarbone and then softly nipped his shoulder, causing him to gasp in dual pain and pleasure. "I had a little accident."

Hobbes opened his eyes, looking down at Claire. "This little accident wouldn't involve you somehow touching the quicksilver flakes and then tearing apart your lab and beating the living daylights out of Darien, would it?"

Claire lifted her head so she could look into Hobbes' eyes, looking rather disappointed by the lack of interest he seemed to be showing in her ministrations. "It might."

Hobbes looked deeply into Claire's eyes, and then winced and looked away. "You need counteragent."

Claire shook her head, a playful grin appearing on her face. "I need you."

Hobbes heaved a deep sigh. "God, I wish you'd think the same thing when you were sane..."

Claire leaned forward so that she was lying directly on top of Hobbes and began playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck. "I'm saner than I've ever been."

Hobbes gave Claire a mournful look and said, "Somehow I doubt that." Or, that was what he meant to do. In reality, he didn't get past the "I" before Claire leaned forward and thrust her mouth against his in a long, passionate kiss. His eyes widened and he tried to pull away, but after several failed attempts finally surrendered himself to the moment and returned it.

Claire finally broke off the kiss, gasping for air. Hobbes stared up at her, a bewildered expression on his face. "Wow..." The kiss had been everything he'd ever hoped it would be. He wouldn't be able to take much more of this; it was worse than torture. At this point all he wanted to do was submit to Claire's advances, but he knew that if he did she'd be furious when she became sane again.

And then he saw something out of the corner of his eye that made him feel a surge of relief and a crashing wave of disappointment, both at once. He looked up into Claire's eyes, not flinching at her silver gaze this time, and said in an earnest tone, "Don't hate me when you wake up."

Claire frowned. "What are you-" She gasped in pain and surprise as Darien stabbed a needle filled with counteragent into her neck. Then her eyes rolled up into the back of her head and she passed out, slumping down on Hobbes' chest.

Darien sighed and slumped against the side of the demented dentist's chair in relief, cradling his injured arm to his chest. He looked over at Hobbes and said in an apologetic tone, "Sorry it took so long, but I had to find the counteragent, not to mention a needle that was still in one piece..."

Hobbes nodded. "No problem." He winced as his voice cracked for the second time.

"You okay?" Darien asked, giving Hobbes a knowing look.

"I'm a lot more okay than you are," Hobbes said, glancing meaningfully at Darien's arm. "You think you can let me outta here? Or is that too much to ask?" He wasn't being sarcastic; he wanted to make sure such an action wouldn't cause Darien any pain.

Darien started to shrug, but thought better of it. "No biggie." He reached over and undid the strap to one of Hobbes' arms. Hobbes was able to do the rest. After he finished freeing himself, he carefully laid Claire down on the chair, a slightly wistful expression on his face. He knew that Claire hadn't been herself when she'd attempted to seduce him, that it had just been the madness talking. The hard thing was, a part of him wished that it really had been her. But he knew that such a thing would happen only in his dreams.

Hobbes looked over at Darien. "So, how much did you see?" Darien deliberated for a moment, most likely trying to decide whether to answer the question or not. That in and of itself was an answer. "Okay, so you saw all of it."

"Most of it," Darien corrected. "I heard all of it."

"Well, I'd really appreciate it if you didn't mention that stuff to Claire," Hobbes said quietly. It would probably be a long time if Claire remembered much more than brief snippets of her foray into stage five quicksilver madness, if she remembered at all. Hobbes still hadn't remembered everything from his past encounter with the madness, although from what Darien had told him he wasn't particularly sure he wanted to.

Darien looked into Hobbes' eyes for a long moment and then nodded solemnly. "I understand."

**********

Hobbes watched as Claire finally began to stir. He had been getting very concerned; it seemed to be taking too long for her to wake up. Darien had tried to reassure Hobbes by informing him that he had been unconscious for quite a while after he had been given the counteragent while in stage five madness. Still, Hobbes hadn't been really relaxed in all the time Claire had been unconscious.

Claire opened her eyes and looked around, a puzzled expression on her face. "Hey there beautiful," Hobbes said in a teasing tone, although deep down inside he knew that he meant it with his whole heart. She really was beautiful, excruciatingly so.

Claire sat up, absently placing a hand against the spot on her neck where Darien had injected the counteragent. "What happened?" she asked in a shocked tone as she surveyed the damage around her.

Darien, who was currently sitting on the overturned table, mumbled, "You happened." Hobbes gave him a sharp glare. "Well, it's true," Darien said defensively.

Hobbes rolled his eyes and then looked over at Claire. "You went into stage five quicksilver madness."

Claire frowned. "But how- oh bum, the quicksilver samples. I was running some experiments..." She ran a hand across her face and then took a shaky breath and looked over at Darien. "Are you alright?"

Darien gritted his teeth. "Feel like I've been hit by a truck."

Claire winced. "Sorry..."

"Oh, it's not your fault. I didn't feel nearly as bad until Hobbes tried to fix me up."

"I had to set his arm," Hobbes said by way of explanation. "After that lovely little exercise, we both decided it would be a better idea to leave the rest up to the professionals."

"I broke his arm?" Claire asked, giving Darien a worried look.

Darien nodded. "You also stuck a piece of broken glass in my side and slammed a beaker over my head."

Claire turned to Bobby, her face pale. "What did I do to you?"

"Nothing," Hobbes said quietly, his inability to meet Claire's gaze completely belying his words.

Claire closed her eyes, taking a shaky breath. "Bloody hell."

Hobbes reached over and placed a hand on Claire's shoulder, but still had a hard time meeting her eyes. "It's okay, don't worry. I'll clean up this mess; you and Fawkes should go home and rest. Busy day and all that."

Claire nodded. "All right... Darien, I'll drive you home. We'll see what we can do about your cuts when we get to your apartment, okay?"

Darien gave Claire a grateful smile. "Thanks, it's much appreciated." He walked out of the lab, looking somewhat relieved that the ordeal was over. Claire followed, but stopped in the doorway and glanced back at Bobby, giving him a worried look. Hobbes managed a watery smile and a quick goodbye wave, and then turned away, taking a deep breath. Claire knew something had happened. She probably couldn't remember, but Hobbes could tell that she knew nonetheless. And Hobbes, well... he would never be able to forget what had happened. He had the feeling that it would haunt his dreams for a long time to come.

Hobbes surveyed the destruction of the lab, taking note of where the most dangerous-looking piles of glass were, and then set to work cleaning up the mess. It wasn't going to be an easy job, but it would be a lot easier than trying to make sense of the thoughts and emotions running through his head. Once he got home, a nice cold shower would be able to help drive those thoughts from his mind. But until then, he would have to settle for sweeping up shards of broken glass.

The End


End file.
